


Rescue and Reprieve

by Born Again Geek (Martin_Waters)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24073324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Martin_Waters/pseuds/Born%20Again%20Geek
Summary: Ransolm Casterfo awaits his sentence.Broken, beaten and disparing, he half wants it all to be over. The New Republic is gone and the first order reigns supreme. His execution is imminent, but he wasn't expecting an audience.
Kudos: 6





	Rescue and Reprieve

THE BILLIONS AND THE FEW  
His knees ached. On top of that he was emotionally drained. The long legal process had been laborious and exhausting; not to mention ultimately fruitless. Perhaps that’s why recently the guards and wardens had eased off. Simply telling him to kneel, rather than physically man handling him. Perhaps they, like him, had realised his cause was finally lost; and that now they were all just waiting for the inevitable sentence to be prescribed. Perhaps they genuinely pitied him. There was some comfort in that, he supposed. The poetic irony of his fate was certainly not lost on him. His ultimate condemnation was almost all his own doing. Yes, he like the rest of the galaxy had been betrayed and yes, he was not the guilty man that he was accused to be. But he was instrumental in the reinstatement of the death penalty. Adamant that strong and hard justice should be dealt, to those who were so deserving. Those who committed crimes, such as he had now been framed for. How cruel now, that he should be the first to bear the full weight of the new and improved justice system.  
The justice minister, who now stands solemnly beside him, had warned him against capital punishment, as well as over hard-line reforms.  
“No one cares about criminals, until they are treated like one.”  
Those words haunted him now, as they had done every night, from the day he was arrested. What an added tragedy and insult, that an innocent man should find reason to reform, yet not have the opportunity to show it. The minister, to his credit had argued vehemently, that his sentence should be reprieved. It was only to his efforts, that Ransolm could attribute his being alive, for this long. The judiciary were however unswayed, as was the populous. Good riddance they thought, and who could blame them. He was the face of their betrayal. No one was more convinced of that, than the Defence forces, with whom he had previously served. They were ashamed to even admit his service. But now even they looked on at him, with sombre pity. The galaxy had changed and now their anger at him gave way, to a general fear. The First order had swept to power, in the most brutal manner and no one on this world knew what fate awaited them. Most however, believed nothing good could come of this new regime. It was too inherently connected to the old Empire; and the suffering they had endured was still fresh in everyone’s mind.  
With that, Ransolm’s thoughts turned to the manner of the First Order’s ascension to power. It was perhaps lucky he was here, not on Hosnian Prime, when they struck. All those people, wiped out. Billions and a few he thought. The billions would make the galaxy mourn and weep and tremble, in fear. The few; those who he could picture in his dreams and name, they would make him furious. All those senators, he had once debated with, for a better galaxy. The staff, in the senate building. The aspiring interns. The man who sold him caff, at the kiosk. All those faces haunted him. All their smiles.  
He hoped he wasn’t the only one who would remember, the billions and the few. What the galaxy needed now, was justice and furry. There was of course, the new ‘resistance’ movement, formed by his good friend, senator Organa. Or is it now ‘General’ Organa? What he wouldn’t give to see her kind face now. Her and all her devoted followers. Are they able to resist? Are they in hiding? Are they recruiting? Are they even still alive, at this point? That unknown thought haunted him too. It seems he’s haunted by almost every thought, these days. But worse, were those who now passively taunted him. Those from his own party, who had survived. Those who he had once called friends, who miraculously found reason to leave the planet quickly. Most taunting of all was her. There she stood. Alive and treacherous. Why he was forced to suffer her company, he didn’t know. Perhaps she wanted to make a show, of his final moments. Her image made his blood boil.  
A LADY IN WAITING  
The Shuttle, having just emerged from hyperspace, approached with typical military precision though without a fighter escort. This seemed unusual, but discretion was more important, to its precious cargo, than a display of military prowess. There was already plenty of that. Riosa is a centrist world and therefore the need for the first order to redeploy its already stretched forces, to such a loyally proven world, was just not required. A small detachment of Stormtroopers kept the diplomatic delegation safe, in lieu of a dedicated senatorial guard. As the shuttle continued to descend to the landing pad and the honour guard was brought to attention, by its captain. The Riosa Defence Force didn’t have the imposing presence of First Order troops, but proprietary dictated their presence was necessary. A small contingent of volunteers had turned out. Their manner and bearing were the very height of professionalism, which one could expect from “provincial” troops.  
She hoped her newly arrived guest would be at least satisfied, with this low key ceremonial display. She knew that he wasn’t here to be impressed, but it wouldn’t hurt and she was keen to make an excellent first impression. Her stormtroopers formed up in platoons, facing inwards. The defence forces made up a smaller, third platoon. They were apparently all volunteers. Many had served with Ransolm Casterfo and wanted to be here, to see justice done. They, along with the captain of the guard and planetary minister, formed up facing the landing pad. As was her prize, in the chains he deserved.  
Above, she could see Six Stormtroopers with rocket packs, emerge from the shuttle, which was now almost hovering. This squad descended to the landing pad, in advance of their shuttle. Other than the rocket packs, they were unique, with the yellow markings, on their armour. Even the distinctive First Order helmets had yellow markings. These were clearly elite and specialist troops. She felt a surge of pride, watching the military efficiency, unfolding before her. The first two touched down on the centre of the landing pad, while the following troopers moved in pairs, to the Flanks. All carried portable shield generators. Of the two in the centre, one had a black Pauldron on his right shoulder, while his partner carried two shield generators. As he moved to set up the equipment, the sergeant stood and regarded the welcoming party, in apparent great detail. They were not interested in standing to attention, but more the composition and numbers of their hosts. As the shield generators ignited the Trooper with the black Pauldron received affirmative nods from his four flanking subordinates. The Sergeant called into his comm link.  
“Landing pad secure. Pathfinders standing by.”  
The Shuttle approached with the same military precision. As it landed, engines powered down, though not entirely. Vents hissed, as the boarding ramp descended. Through the blue shimmer of the shield she watched the Pathfinder Sergeant turn in to face the interior of the shuttle’s entrance, then smartly he turned to face the Senator. He walked through the newly erected shield and lowered his weapon to his right side. With his left hand he gave a gesture, for her to approach.  
As she advanced, a figure in black descended from the craft. Tall, athletic, caped and masked, this imposing figure had the posture and presence of power and confidence. As indeed he should. Behind him, the familiar grey uniform, of an officer of the First Order. She was carrying data pads and a satchel. A young looking lieutenant, she was clearly fulfilling the role of aid decamp. As they passed through the protective shield and approached to meet midway, the aid was clearly mouthing the names and ranks of his hosts.  
“Supreme Leader, welcome to Riosa.”  
“Thank you Lady Carise. I hope you understand the need for discretion about my visit. Our ongoing efforts to bring security to the galaxy are being hindered by the resistance and the surviving pockets of Republic forces. I understand communications to this system have be disrupted, by their efforts. My publicised presence would have brought their violence to this world.”  
The senator winced slightly, but maintained her composure.  
“Certainly Supreme leader. We of course would like to herald your presence with the propriety and grandeur it deserves, but your needs outweigh ceremonial protocol at this time.”  
“I’ve made you uncomfortable. I apologise I should have addressed you as senator.”  
“That’s quite alright supreme leader. I’m quite….”  
He interrupted.  
“No it isn’t. I should have realised that you were stripped of title Lady, by the Elder houses. Again, I apologise for making uncomfortable, by reminding you of this offence, against you.”  
She took some unexpected comfort, in his description of her disgrace as an offence against her. Despite his mask, she felt he was regarding her with sympathetic eyes.  
“Well, thank you Supreme Leader. I assure you, I have endured this slant against me. My dedication to the First Order gives me hope for a better future, regardless of your mother’s efforts against me.”  
He paused and she wondered if she had crossed some sought of line. She’d mentioned his mother, dammit, why did she bring that up.  
“Indeed. But let’s not discuss my past lineage. I have my own path, which no longer concerns her. Let us concentrate on the present and the future. We do need to discuss the governing of the galaxy. Loyal senators, such as you are key to the capitulation of any further resistance. Especially with the recent removal of the sitting Senate. There will no doubt be ministerial roles to fill.”  
This was the affirmation that she had hoped for. The recognition of her efforts and now the prospect of reward, with higher office.  
“Ministerial Roles?”  
“Of course. The First Order is currently set up to govern itself, but it now has a much greater reach of power. It makes sense to use those with the experience and capacity to manage the galaxy, to carry on doing so.”  
“Well I’m glad you approve, Supreme Leader”  
“We don’t need new people. We need the right people. The galaxy shall see you for all your merits and recognise all your accomplishments. You shall in time gain new titles which Lady Carise Sindian couldn’t imagine.  
“You are kind and it is an honour to serve the First Order, in which ever manner you ask of me.”  
“Well, we of noble lineage, must look after each other, especially when cast aside by the galaxy.”  
Despite his voice being distorted, by his helmet, he sounded genuinely curt and she caught herself blushing. He presented his arm, which she took and they began slowly walking, toward the honour guard. “I hope there’s a day when I can take a Lady’s arm and walk to something more civilised, than a Traitor’s execution.”  
“Those days of polite society are closer today, than they were yesterday, Supreme Leader; thanks to your achievements.”  
He inclined his head slightly, to look at her through his helmet, and though the dark glass of his visor, she caught the slightest glimpse of brilliant bright eyes.  
“Polite Society? Neither my past Jedi training, nor my time fighting has prepared me for Galas, Balls and parties. Clearly I shall need a Lady, to teach me how to dance.”  
“Well i'm sure a man of your talents and abilities would be able to adapt, to that change in lifestyle. The First Order's Great prize, is being rewarded with the spoils of the galaxy. If you need to learn how to dance, there is bound to be a gap in your busy duties, to learn”  
Flattery now ventured into a charm offensive.  
“Or, to be taught. There are so many styles now open to you, as well as all manner of other civilised pleasures. Dance, music, wines, cuisine, spice, women……..None of them are denied to you now. Neither the Jedi Order, nor the Republic can deny you what's yours. The galaxy will soon learn to be grateful, that those corrupt institutions are swept aside. We as a galaxy now owe a debt, to the First Order; and helping you indulge in our luxuries, is the only the start of how we repay and celebrate you and your arrival.”  
He seemed to regard her hand on his arm, then returned his masked gaze to her.  
“Victory’s spoils sound splendid. Each temptation shall be Indulged, in time i’m sure; but I do think we should now concentrate on today. Besides; regardless of what tomorrow brings us, I’m quite sure I already have the greatest prize, that i could claim today.”  
She caught herself blushing again. This was going so much better than expected.

MASKED AND THE VEILED.  
This was going better than expected. He certainly wasn't expecting to be enjoying himself. He wondered if anyone else was. Certainly she was and certainly the forlorn figure ahead of him wasn't. Everyone else however seemed fairly tense, as was to be expected, for this occasion. Courtesy and flirtation would however have to give way now to the task at hand. He could in fact sense his companions willing him to get on with it, so they could move on from here. There was after all, a war to fight and win. He could feel the eyes of the grey uniformed figure behind him, burying into the back of his head, as he slowly walked along with his host. She wished he’d end the flirtations and get on with it. Not that she’d dare speak up, of course.  
Finally however, they reached the man, that they’d all come to see. The visor of his mask had multiple head up display readings and recordings, but all the collected data couldn’t convey the resignation of the defeated man in front of him. Oddly he seemed content. Not at peace, but he had clearly now accepted his fate. His sad eyes looked up at him, but with a strange smile. this condemned man had his part to play and he was at least going to play it with a certain amount of dignity. He also glanced at the woman on his arm, who was now sporting a satisfied, smug smile. As undeniably attractive as she was, smugness will always be an ugly look, for anyone. The captive managed to keep his smile, but those eyes of his, gave away his true feelings. No one needed the force to sense the deep and unwavering hatred, this man had for her.  
“I see you kept the senator on your arm. Clever. you’ll be able to keep her hand where you can see them. Perhaps that’ll keep the wretched woman from stabbing you in the back.”  
He was glad for his mask, as he found that he couldn't suppress a wry smile. He could sense that the senator was clearly bored of suffering his existence, much longer. she did however keep a cool tone as she responded.  
“Is that all you have left? Can the once great Ransolm Casterfo not think of anything more constructive, in his last hours?  
“No, No, I’ve had plenty of time to think of insults; many in the varied languages of our once great Republic. I don’t suppose I have time to go through all of them.”  
“No, thankfully you don’t. Your time now has…”  
“Then I shall Leave you with just this one. Gar’Tii danear bruunar Ti, ou paarre”  
Everyone paused, expecting a translation, but it never came. The captive man on his knees just stared at her with a mischievous smile of satisfaction. Though his eyes were drawn to the scattered individual laughs; poorly suppressed, in the ranks of the honour guard. This only served to entrench his smirk.  
“He really doesn't like you, senator.”  
Through the corner of his visor, he could see her smug composure had completely left her. Not only was she being insulted, but she'd been made to look stupid and ignorant, too.  
“I don't suppose you're going to tell us what you said, are you?”  
“Oh no, Supreme Leader, I’d much rather she endured being insulted twice, by discovering for herself; after my demise. I like the idea, that I can haunt her.”  
“WELL YOU WON’T HAVE TO WAIT LONG, WILL YOU?”  
She’d lost her reserve, which was good. Through his visor, he could see her collecting herself and returning to a facade of composure. It fooled no one, least of all him. He could feel her anger, which is what he wanted, but he also sensed her impatience. That wasn’t what he wanted. Her anger was flared and her hat was apparent. He couldn't let it end now, he needed to stir the pot.  
“I quite like that you can vent your rage and rail it back in.”  
She looked at him slightly confused, but also flattered again. She seemed relieved to have his support. But he still sensed her impatience. It was time to cast her political composure aside and let her emotions flow. It was time to nurture her pride. He turned to face her, placing his gloved hand on her’s and looked her dead in the eye.  
“I believe he’s taunting you out of a finale act of spite. You are, after all the very reason he’s here now.”  
Her eyes widened at that sentence, as though she really thought something deeply personal was being discussed.  
“Come now senator, there’s no need for hiding and modesty, any more. You should be proud of your part and your accomplishments. You really should be able to look your quarry in the eye and flaunt your victory. It is yours to flaunt, after all.”  
As he gestured her forward, to condemned captive, her face returned to its satisfied expression of smugness.  
“It is true, I provided the means for his arrest.”  
He could feel her hatred flowing. Good.  
“And it was me, who turned him against his precious friend, Senator Organa.”  
She was enjoying this. Good. Good, keep going.  
“AND…….It was me who helped facilitate the Amaxine Warriors, to help pave the way for The First Order’s glorious return.”  
He felt her calm herself down and restrain herself, as she became aware of those who surrounded her. Damn.  
She leaned into him.  
“I want you to know, what a real Centrist looks like, when you see me. Your brand of moderation, is week and was never going to prevail.”  
Well that was disappointing. He really wanted her to not hold back, but now she just looked at him, content and expecting.  
“Shall we end this?”  
“Actually, we’re far from finished.”  
He turned to his Aid.  
“Bring the Other one.”  
It was time to aggravate the conversation.  
A SENATE POINT OF VIEW

Varish Vicly sat soberly, in her chains. She wondered how much longer, this charade of justice, would have to be endured. Her two escorts sat opposite, with their weapons slung and holstered. They weren’t needed, after all. The young blond man, in the Ubese bounty hunter’s mask had afforded her a cushion, to sit on; which afforded her some sense of comfort, in this otherwise utilitarian, military shuttle. It was a far cry from her once lavish lifestyle of opulence. She wondered again, how long, this would go on for. She simply wasn’t accustomed to any of this. Then a comm link sounded. The woman in the Mandalorian armour answered and they both stood.  
“It’s time, Senator.”  
“Well, sitting here was becoming rather dull, anyway.”  
The three stood, and positioned themselves at the top of the boarding ramp. The young man unslung his carbine, but the woman kept both of her blasters, holstered on her thighs. Varish took one deep breath, to compose and ready herself, for horrid reception that she was about to endure. Whatever composure she brought to herself though was abruptly lost, with one good palm, thrust into her deltoid. She stumbled down the ramp, cursing and giving an evil glare, to the impertinent woman. There was no expression, to read behind the helmet, but she was quite sure it would be a professional indifference. She had to put on a show, she supposed.  
She turned to walk through the static shield generators and face her new hosts. There was the broken traitor, on his knees. There was that wretched traitor, who was revealing in the ashes, of the republic. And there, a tall, cloaked and masked, figure in black; the reason she was here. His use of her, was genuinely, the most terrifying experience of her life. After all that had happened; to drag her here, now, into this den of raptors, scavenging of the carcass of democracy. She was used to fighting these villains, in chambers of the Senate. This terrifying new circumstance was very much out of her comfort zone. But he was of course very insistent, to have her presence. To her surprise Ransolm Casterfo looked in genuine despair, at her arrival. Quite the contrast, to the look of glee, on Carise Sindian’s face.  
The cloaked figure said something to Sindian, but Varish didn’t hear. She and Sindian had locked gazes and she was imagining taring that smug smile, right off her wretched face.  
“Supreme Leader, this is truly is an unexpected surprise. A remarkably pleasant one.”  
“I assure you, Carise, the pleasure is all yours, umffff….”  
Varish found herself suddenly on her knees, paralel to Ransolm, courtesy of a foot, in the back of her knee. The despair on his face, was now completely inescapable, as he was apparently close to tears. Sindian noticed this, also.  
“Well Ransolm, it seems you’re not as composed as you thought you were. Look how distraught you are, at the senator’s presence. Tell me, did you get all too friendly with this Populist too?”  
Varish looked from Sindian to Casterfo, with equal scorn and some confusion.  
“No. But I had hoped this day’s suffering, would just be mine. No one should have to share.”  
“Pitty. I was hoping for some last minute intrigue and scandal. Some revelation perhaps, of how you and your Populist bed fellows, wined and dined the night away; at Tai-Lin Garr’s residence.”  
Varish felt her blood boil and even surprised herself, with her outburst.  
“Don’t you mention his name. You dirty his name, every time you say it; you soulless, backstabbing parasite. Both of you should be ashamed of your deeds.”  
It didn't help her temper, that Sindian just stood there, smiling at her, like a frustrated child. Casterfo however did look like he was utterly broken by that outburst. Good.  
A gloved hand, placed itself on her shoulder, as if to sooth her.  
“I believe she still thinks, Ransolm Casterfo is the reason we’re all here today. I’m sure most people do, such is the effectiveness of your plans, Senator. It was of course necessary at the time, to have the galaxy believe Senator Casterfo was the mastermind, of it all; rather than the sacrificial pawn, that he really was. I don't see why that should still be true though.”  
Varish was now completely confused by this statement. Is that why he’d insisted that she be brought here? To listen to bragging, about who did what? She looked from one treacherous senator, to the other, trying to figure out what it was they weren't telling her.  
“I don’t think it’s appropriate for somebody else to take credit, for your accomplishments. The senator’s fate is now sealed, nothing will change my actions today. Why not make it known who really brought the First Order, back to its former imperial glory.”  
It was all becoming clear now. She’d been wrong about it all. She looked now at Casterfo, with a whole new feeling. Pitty. As she did, Sindian indulged her Supreme Leader and stepped in to brag about herself. She couldn't help herself now.  
“You are most kind, Supreme Leader. I of course was happy to be modest, about my involvement, but youre right. Why let Ransolm Casterfo take credit away from me.”  
Varish felt suddenly sick, as SIndian leaned in to savour her words.  
“It was all me. I told Casterfo of Leia Organa’s heritage, to break up their unsightly friendship. When it was clear, he still couldn't be trusted, as he supported her, in the senate; it was me, who arranged for Tai-lin Garr’s removal. It wasn’t hard to forge the evidence, to lay the blame with Casterfo. Then with those two gone, Leia really had no one else, to turn to in the senate. Even you, her trusted friend, dismissed and abandoned her.”  
“I DID NOTHING OF THE SORT!”  
“Oh? didn’t she try to tell you, there was someone else, at work? didn’t you brush her off? weren’t you so willing to accept that it was Casterfo?”  
Anger and shame, flooded over Varish now. She had brushed off Leia. She hadn’t want to reject her friend, sh just wanted Tai-Lin Garr to be mourned in peace.  
“After all that, she left the senate. Three meddling senators removed and the government remained in bureaucratic quagmire. Tell me, did you get an invitation, to join her pathetic resistance? No? Just another bumbling politician keeping the galaxy oblivious to our plans and designs. It’s a pity you didn’t suffer the same fate as the rest of them. I knew not all senators would be on world, but your survival has only delayed the inevitable.”  
The gloved hand lifted off Varish’s shoulder.  
“That’s more like it. That’s the anger and pride, i wanted to sense coming from you. Doesn’t it feel liberating, to reveal yourself?”  
“It certainly does, Supreme Leader.”  
Varish Vicly, I trust you’re more enlightened now?”  
“I am.”  
“Excellent. I’m glad I didn’t waste everyone’s time, having Greer and Seastriker bring you here.”  
She didn’t look at him. She didn’t need to. She knew his hand was reaching for his lightsaber. She heard the two behind her, drawing their blasters. She knew the time had come. So she just kneeled there, readying herself and staring Sindian right in the eye.  
“Justice minister, I trust you heard all of that and accept her claims to be true? We wouldn't want someone like Ransolm Casterfo to die as a hero, of the First Order”  
“I did, Supreme leader.”  
The captain of the guard, also replied. “As did we.”  
Varish glanced around, to see the defence forces, seething with fury. She also noticed Casterfo. His look had now manifested, into slight confusion, as he appeared to recognise somebody. She turned her attention again to Carise Sindian. Their gazes had become locked again. Both of them smiled, which suddenly seemed to disconcert Sindian.  
“Good. Let’s end this.”  
The gloved hand flicked its fingers. The shackles fell from Varish Vicly’s wrists and the smile fell from Craise Sindian’s face. 

FIGHT AND FLIGHT

Ransolm watched as the cloaked man’s arms outstretched and the two platoons of storm troopers found themselves being thrust backwards. Ransolm Casterfo watched, as the golden fur of Varish Vicly lurched forwards, in front of him, to tackle Carise Sindian. The Pathfinders erupted into action, unleashing a withering voley of blaster fire, into the confused stormtroopers. Behind him, the Riosa Defence Force troops, joined the fray; firing into the passageways where the remainder of the stormtrooper detachment was trying to approach from.  
A blue glow appeared in front of him. Stray blaster fire bounced off it, deflected safely away. As the cloaked man continued to deflect shots, Greer, in the Mandalorian armour knelt beside Ransolm and handed him her second blaster. He smiled and joined in the firefight.  
“It’s time you weren't here, senator. Greer get him behind the shields.”  
She nodded affirmatively and grabbed Ransolm by the back of his shirt. As they ran back, the pathfinders had begun to advance forwards. The numbers were now in their favour and everyone was keen to end this fight. They advanced by foot and by rocket pack, neutralising any stormtrooper, who was still putting up a fight. Through the blue shimmer of the shield, Ransolm could see the Riosa troops posting thermal detonators into the passageways, to be absolutely sure that the first order couldn’t and wouldn’t reach the platform. But what was much more intriguing, was the sight of the Gold haired Loneran, being dragged off Carise Sindian, by young Seastriker. She was doing her utmost to get back to the bloodied and semi conscious Sindian; now lying on the floor. In fact an elbow into the side of Seastriker’s Ubese helmet, gave her the chance to wriggle free of his grip and run back to continue venting her anger. As the blaster shots finally subsided, all that could be heard, was Varish screaming and Sindian whimpering. The cloaked figure powered down his lightsaber and his free hand raised up in their direction. The broken body of Carise Sindian, flung like a ragdoll, towards the shield generators, before Varish could inflict anymore damage upon her. As she landed, Greer stepped around, to secure her.  
“Lets get her on board and prepare to extract.”  
Joph Seastriker, removed his helmet and ran back to help Greer, drag her aboard. Greer also removed her helmet and handed it to Ransolm, to hold, while she worked.  
“That’s not for one of collections, Casterfo, I want that back. My pistol too. See you on board.”  
She looked exhausted, but her eyes looked alive. like she was a woman who’d found a purpose. Also, she seemed genuinely pleased to see him. He hadn’t experienced that for some time.  
Now it seemed everyone was in a rush to tidy and leave. Ransolm turned, to see the pathfinders searching the fallen Stormtroopers, for weapons and Intel. The Captain of the Guard was talking on a comm link and the justice minister was composing himself. The Cloaked figure was also now walking calmly towards the shuttle. His hood had dropped during the battle and it was only now, that Ransolm could see two braids of hair; protruding from beneath the back of his helmet. As Varish composed herself, she joined him, as he began taking his helmet off. A flash of brilliant green appeared, in the form of a neatly trimmed beard and hair, that matched the two braided tails. The braids, Ransolm couldn’t help but notice, resembled Twi’lek head tails. He walked to meet his green haired rescuer, as the Justice minister and Captain of the Guard approached.  
“Well Now that went as well as one could hope. I trust, Minister, that your are content with giving the former Senator his reprieve; and that all charges of conspiracy, treason and murder, will be dropped?”  
“I most certainly am, Captain Syndulla.”  
“Excellent. I’m sure there will be lots of people questioning, what happened here today. This helmet, doesn’t just mask my voice, to imitate the Supreme Leader. It also has a holo cam recorder inside. So, everything here was documented. Especially Carise Sindian confessions. Here is the data recorder, for your Justice ministry.”  
“Thankyou. This will go a long way to revealing how corrupt, the proponents of the First Order are.”  
The Captain of the Guard approached.  
“The higher command have been informed, of what's happened here. They’ve mobilized all reserves and shut down, extra planetary communications. That should slow down the First Order’s reaction to this attack and give us time to prepare our defences. You should not delay, your return to the resistance though.”  
The lieutenant and the Pathfinders approached the shuttle. As they passed the Lieutenant was clearly happy with the collected First Order code cylinders, now collected in her satchel.  
“A good day for the Resistance.”  
“And Clan Wren”, interjected the Pathfinder Sergeant.  
“And me. Thank you all for this intervention and saving my life.”  
“Well, we need all allies we can get, at this time and your story will help get the Resistance's message out to the galaxy. The First Order and their supporters, are not to be trusted; and we need to come together to repulse their assault. Regardless of previous political divide, we must unite against this new nemesis”.  
Varish Vicly nodded in firm agreement, with Jacen Syndulla.  
“Quite so. If ‘General’ Organa is going to be successful, in leading this resistance, she requires all of her allies at her side. So, with that and allies in mind, it falls that I owe someone an apology. Lieutenant Seastriker’s first name is Joph, is it not? He really didn’t deserve that elbow, to the head.”  
As she walked to the shuttle, she and Ransolm exchanged curt nods and small smiles. It occured to Jacen, that this was probably the most civil, either of them had ever expected to be, with each other. Being allied in war, was probably the last thing they expected. The Captain of the Riosa guard spoke up.  
“It really is time, you weren't here, Captain Syndulla. You, the Senators and your prisoner, need to get back to the resistance. Good luck Senator. Riosa and the galaxy is counting on you.”  
He offered up his hand, to Ransolm, who accepted it gladly. As they smiled through their handshake, it seemed to Ransolm, that the captain was masking a certain amount of shame.  
“Ilook forward to being part of the galaxy again. Though I regret that I can’t be here with you, on Riosa, when the First Order comes. Good luck, on our home front, Captain.”  
“And to you, Senator.”  
As Syndulla and Casterfo boarded the shuttle, the rest of the raiding party had already taken their seats and was preparing for take off. Clan Wren, had removed their helmets and were jovaly critiquing each other, on their performance. There was some discussion over who scored the most blaster hits, as well as a resounding dislike, for stormtrooper helmets. Those now sat idle, under their seats. They had served their purpose, but the Mandalorians were glad to be rid of them. The F-11D blaster however, seemed to be getting some praise. The Only person not in her seat, was Varish. She was up in the cockpit, laughing with Joph, who evidently forgave her for the whack to the head. As the ramp raised and the engines powered back up, Ransolm was suddenly aware of Carise Sindian, staring intently at him and Syndulla.  
“You vile, disceving, treacherous upstart of a Jedi half breed.”  
The chatter died down, as everyone took note of the insults now being hurled. Syndulla however seemed unphased. If anything he seemed to have an understanding and pitying look, on his face.  
“Disceving, yes. Treacherous, hardly. Vile and upstart? That’s just rude. Still; I suppose I should sit with you, so you can get it all out of your system. I imagine we won’t see much of each other, after you’ve gone to the Resistance Intelligence unit.”  
He moved to sit next to her, as a genuine look of fear came over her. She tried to stay composed, but she was clearly terrified. Ransolm however, saw no reason to be anywhere near her. So as the shuttle lifted, he found a seat, near the cockpit. He thought he’d get a moment to himself, to take in everything that had just happened. Solitude however, was short lived, as Greer came down from the cockpit, with a bottle and two glasses. A bottle he recognised and was both amused and terrified to see.  
“Port in a Storm?”  
“It is. The occasion seems to warrant it.”  
“So it does.”  
As Greer poured, Casterfo noted how physically exhausted she appeared, after this operation. But as she handed him his glass, she managed a smile. The look in her eyes, seemed genuinely pleased and relieved, to see him.  
“I must say, I’ve been reminiscing about the first time you gave me this, on Hosnian Prime. I intended to order you all some Riosan Liqueur, but events got in the way. I had hoped to drink this ‘supernova’ in a bottle with all again. Though I don’t suppose Joph has gotten any better, at stomaching it?”  
Greer smirked.  
“Are you kidding? He practically convulses, just seeing the bottle.”  
“Well, maybe he just needs more practice.”  
They clinked glasses and sipped. He resisted the urge to vomit his entire digestive system, but couldn’t quite control the shuder race through his body.  
“Not bad, for man who’s malnourished and out of practice.”  
“Well i didn’t want to look week, in front of the Madalorians. I’m sure I’ll do a better job, when we get to wherever it is, that we’re heading. Speaking of which, where is that, exactly?”  
“For now, we’re heading to Rendezvous Coordinates. There’s no point talking out loud, in front of a prisoner. It’s best she doesn’t have any inclination, into our movements. You’d best get used to working and talking surreptitiously. It’s war now and you never know who’s listening.”  
“Fair enough. Wherever it is is, it’ll be good to relax around friendly faces. I’m looking forward to seeing Leia again; and Korrie. Perhaps we’ll all have a more universally potable drink. Duties permitting, of course.”  
The smile on Greer Sonnell’s face wained.  
“General Organa is looking forward to your return. Korr sella was on Hosnian Prime, when it was destroyed.”  
A brief and uncomfortable silence lingered between them. Casterfo once again, thought of the billions and the few. The only thing Casterfo could think to break the silence, was raise his glass.  
“Well then; to Korr Sella, her memory and the fight ahead.”  
Greer forced a smile, to return.  
“To Korr Sella and her memory. Welcome to the Resistance, Ransolm.”  
He forced a smile, to match hers. As the distinctive high pitched whine, of the Hyperdrive engines began to sound their departure, from this system; they clinked their glasses once more, linked arms and drank themselves into Hyperspace.

The End


End file.
